Christmas Shoes for Klaus
by FoxyG
Summary: [ficlet][PARODY] Klaus is never in the Christmas mood. The little boy and his Christmas shoes really, really don't help things much. Early for Christmas, I know, but oh well.


A twist on that terrible song "Christmas Shoes," more or less inspired by Patton Oswalt's stand-up comedy routine on the song. It's probably funnier if you look up the song on youtube or something, but I don't highly recommend it, as you're probably better off not listening to it at all. But if you're curious, go right ahead. I think you'll get it more though if you look up the Patton Oswalt shtick; I know they have at least one video of it up there.

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Klaus let out an annoyed sigh. It was his own fault, he supposed. He chose to wait last minute to get his maid and his ever faithful butler gifts for Christmas. His butler was easy; a bottle of wine to celebrate the holidays with, as always. Nothing too expensive of course, because that'd be ridiculous, but nothing cheap either, because then he'd be called a miser by his staff. He met at the middle for that gift.

His maid was a little harder, though. She was new to the staff, so he couldn't just go with "the usual", and women's gifts were all too confusing. Too many scents and fragrances and frilly colors to deal with. Though she not so subtly hinted to him that a fancy bar of soap would do just fine. The flowery smell was making him a tad nauseous at the moment, though.

He had put off shopping for them for the whole month, but now it was the 23rd of December, and he had no other choice than to wait in a long department store line. Luckily, he was almost to the counter. Something was taking the cashier a long time, though. He observed the scene in front of him.

The little boy in front of him was acting all antsy, bouncing on the soles of his feet. Klaus wondered where his parents were, as he was standing alone in front of the counter, but didn't think more of it as he noticed the child's garb. He was all scruffy, with a moth-bitten scarf and jacket, and hole laden pants, shoes and a hat. He was a bit dirty, too.

Klaus grimaced, wondering what age they were in. Couldn't people bathe their kids these days? At least repair his clothes, if not replace them.

"Sir, please hurry," the boy said. Klaus' eyebrows raised a bit at his manners. "I'm going to buy these shoes for my mother." Klaus' eyebrows raised higher--an upstanding little boy to be buying shoes for his mother. "Father says there's not much time--she might... pass on. I want her to look beautiful when she meets Jesus tonight."

Like a ton of bricks, Klaus' look fell.

God, what a terrible story. I mean, really, what better way to get his mood down. Iron Klaus' stoicism was a little ruptured, to say the least. Where was that child's no good father, anyway? The kid shouldn't be left to buy Christmas presents by himself, let alone for his sick, dying mother.

Klaus looked back up at the cashier--an old, kindly looking gent. Klaus' eyebrows raised again as the old cashier's eyes began to wet. "I'm sorry, son, there's not enough here," the cashier splayed his hands out to the massive pile of pennies the boy had apparently packed onto the counter before.

Oh God, how could it get worse? Klaus could almost vomit at the terrible circumstances.

Of course, it could get worse. The boy turned to Klaus, his eyes beginning to water as well. "Sir, what am I going to do? I have to buy her these Christmas shoes! They're just her size!"

Klaus gulped, his eyebrows raising. Was he really being asked this? He didn't want to get involved with the story--it was painful enough that he was a bystander and had to watch the whole thing.

His eyes went away from the boy for a moment up to the cashier. God, the man was crying. A grown man! Older than he was! It was a sad story and all, but really, he should be able to compose himself!

His eyes strayed back to the boy. His face was all dirty, his eyes wide and glistening with tears, his lower lip trembling.

Ugh. It was all so pathetic. Klaus felt weak suddenly.

He was quickly sent back into reality as people behind him began to shout obscenities, getting rightfully impatient at the long hold up. With one last look at the two pathetic creatures before him, he sighed greatly. A dirty child, a dying mother, Jesus, Christmas shoes--and now begging?! It was too much for him.

"How much are the shoes?" he got out his wallet. He put the total on the counter--rather hefty for a damn pair of shoes, he thought, but he seemed to be caught in a corner there.

"Oh, thank you, sir!" the boy's face lit up, and for a split second, Klaus felt a bit better. Good, even.

That was quickly gone, however, as the boy snatched the money from the counter and ran out the door.

Klaus was frozen in shock for a moment, trying to register what had just happened. Finally he roared, "Come back here, you sniveling brat!" and ran right after the boy. Unfortunately he, and the money, were gone as he got outside.

"God damn it!" Klaus seethed, "I hate the holidays!" He stomped back into the department store, cursing God for making him so miserable in return for doing a good deed. He didn't notice the abandoned pair of Christmas shoes he trampled over on the way inside.

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Amusing? Offending? However you feel you can comment. I'm not against flames, because I just laugh at them, you see. c: So go ahead.


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